Home is Where You Make It
by RashFace
Summary: Alliance Explorer, Imperial Smuggler, Federal Policeman. Soran Hisham, captured by Imperialist Agents, recounts his story of how he went from being a penniless courier to becoming an Elite pilot of the Galaxy. Surviving hardship, family problems and intense conflicts in the vastness of space.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

 **Hello there, its me. Just so you know; I don't own Elite:Dangerous or any other of the Elite series. This is probably the first writing that I've publish so feel free to tell if it sucks or not because it would seriously help. Another thing before you start reading is that I have never played the game despite being a fan so don't be surprise if I add things in here that don't connect in the actual game. I have done some research before reading this but if there's some stuff I've missed, don't be afraid to let me know.**

Prologue

Agent Sans Michael was feeling peckish since this morning. He had skipped breakfast when he heard that they had captured a spy who had willingly turned himself in at a local precinct. The Empire had a disdain for spies which is ironic considering that the ISB uses spies as well. This spy however, was unique according to his superior. That peak his interest and he immediately flew his car to headquarters.

As soon as he got there a number of other agents and interrogators were already present. They were discussing how they deal with this traitor, either torture or death. Michael was uncomfortable with the thought of torture. He was above all else an agent who dissolved crime and helped defectors into their new homes. Yes interrogating was part of the job but it was very different from torturing. He snaps back to reality when someone called his name. A large plump man with a bald head and thick moustache waltz his way through the group.

"Director Vaugh," Michael greeted.

"Michael good you're here. I knew you wouldn't be late."

He cleared his throat before bellowing everyone to shut up. When he was sure that nobody was talking he began the briefing.

"Alright, listen up because I'm not going to repeat myself. It is to my belief that the spy who willingly gave up his freedom and wit is one of prime suspect on the list." Chorus of murmurs went all around before the Director silenced them again. "Now I'm sure a lot of you are eager to put him in the grind but if anyone is going to do it, it'll be Sans Michael."

A majority of the group immediately voice their disdain with a few throwing insults at Michael saying he's too soft. Michael was surprised on the other hand. He wasn't expecting the Director to give to him. An interrogator was the same. "SHUT IT."

Everyone in the room turn to face the man who apparently was standing next to him. "Director, with all due respect, isn't this case more suited to for any one of us interrogators? I do not doubt San skills but it does appear rather odd sir."

Voices of agreement rang through the group and Vaugh was quick to answer him.

"I understand your concerns Interrogator Halas but Michael's is doing it because he's been chasing after him for years. Intelligence confirms that the identity of this man matches with the logs that we recovered 6 months ago."

"Are you sure it's him?" Michael asked, excitement rising in his voice.

"Yes Michael it's him. Now hurry up and get it over with It." he tossed a file to him that he caught easily and with a shove from interrogator Halas, was on his way to the interrogation room. He was thrilled, anxious and moreover so, relieved. The Universe had given him his prime goal for the last 7 years. Taking deep breaths he schooled his features before walking through the door.

The room was a concussive grey, and the lights were dim. It was supposed to have a psychological effect on those in it but not for ISB Agents. Nor was the man sitting on one end of table was either. Michael's observation training kicked it and he immediately evaluated the man sitting before him.

He was young, mid 20's, with brown eyes, short black hair and tan skin; possibly of Indian descent, a wrist watch on his right hand and a silver ring on his ring finger; indicating marriage. He stopped when he noticed that the spy's hands weren't bounded. The man smiled when he noticed this and gestured towards the chair opposite him.

"Please sit," his English was spot on but he didn't recognise the accent. He sat down without a word and began looking through the file. Neither of them exchanged words after that for the next few minutes as Michael looked through the file. It was a simple tactic that he favoured where the victim would grow impatient and slips up. Strange enough, after taking quick glances the man across from didn't so much as bat an eye. He was either observing him or looking at the ring on his hand. After reading through the contents, he closed it, and started the interrogation.

"Soran Hashim bin Abdul Rahim; that is your alias is it?"

"Nope, that's my real name truth be told."

"And how do I know you're not lying?"

"You're not the first one ask that." _So he's been in this position before._

"Very well then; why did you surrender?"

"I didn't exactly have a choice."

"Explain,"

"Explain why I'm here or how I ended up here?"

"What's the difference?"

"The short boring version or the long interesting version; either one ends the same way."

Michael contemplated on this. On the one he could simply be serious about it or he could learn more about this spy as it was.

"Do you know why you're here?"

A smile appeared on his face. "Apparently I'm a spy."

A moment passed and Michael propped his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together. "Alright spy, I'll humour you; how did you ended up here?"

Soran mirrored the Agent's posture, "you might want to order some food cause it is a long story."


	2. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

WHERE IT ALL STARTED

 _3289\. 78 Ursae Majoris was where it all changed for me. At 16 years old studying to be a doctor suddenly gets the call from his 15 year girlfriend saying "I'm pregnant." That's exactly what every kid at that age should hear. Funny thing about it is that we decided to keep it but in order to do that; we had to give up everything. And that's what we did; we packed up our bags, sneaked out, hoped on a shuttle to the orbital station and jumped on the first liner to the next system. The bad news was that we had no idea which star system we were in. the good news though was that the pilot dropped us at a Coriolis Station. We stayed there a few months living in a cheap studio while working at the starport. It was a win-win for us because we got to learn how to fly which would make it easier for us in the long run. After a while, Sarah had to quit due to labour and I was left for a double shift to make up for it. it stayed like that for a month until the Universe smiled at me._

It was August, somewhere during midnight. Soran was at a bar where pilots went to drink. He had been a regular there since the start of his double shift with his co-workers but now he wa himself. He was thinking; which was something he didn't do a lot. he knew that the job he had now wouldn't be enough to provide for the baby, which meant he had try for a different job with a higher paying salary. he sighed and knocked back another glass of whiskey down his throat. He pondered on the choice he made that day. To run away and start a new life together, that was the plan anyway. Now, with a few months left until she give births he has to find a way to make it work. Until that is a young woman starting walking towards him. He straightened up trying not to look drunk or depressed. As she got closer he saw that she was a ginger with short hair, brown eyes and freckles. She was cute, he couldn't deny that but he had to deny about what was going to happen in the next few minutes.

"Hi there," she greeted, her Scottish accent accentuated.

Not wanting to sound like a douche, Soran greeted in kind.

"hello yourself."

"I've seen you here before with a couple of your buddies. Never took you to be a loner."

"Well that's because I'm thinking about my pregnant girlfriend whose going to give birth in the next few months and I have to think of a way to get more money before that happens. But yea me either."

He poured himself another shot while the woman was surprise but not unfazed. A soft smile appeared as she asked the bartender for another shot glass and sat down next to him.

"How many months now?"

"7 months" he answered without missing a beat.

"Not long now then," she poured herself a shot and threw back on it, Soran doing the same.

"Can you fly?" she suddenly asked.

"Yea, I can fly" he answered slurring a bit.

"Hahaha, no I mean _really_ fly; like a ship?"

Soran hesitated for a moment. "does a skiff count?"

He received a slap to the head in reply. "Of course not you bloke. If you're interested, come to landing bay 7 later today."

"I hope there's no funny business involved," his face turning dread.

The female gave a hearty laugh at that, and it continued that for sometimes before both retired the night. The next morning after hangover breakfast made by his endearing girlfriend, he shuffled his way the designated landing pad that the lady from last night mention. As he passes an observation deck, he saw relatively few ships docked this morning with some halfway leaving the airlock to their destination. he stopped in his tracks when he realised how easy it is for them to stop and go and wondered if he could do just that. he put the thought aside, knowing that he was the one that put them here in the first and leaving them just like that would make him a coward. He wasn't technically an adult but he was a man, and in the lessons he learned the man leads and takes responsibility. He moves with purpose to the landing bay and when he got there he had expected to find the expensive ship of a cute lady pilot. He was totally surprised when he saw the complete opposite.

It was angular, square-ish in fact, and it was painted white with an orange stripe running around it. it wasn't particularly large; maybe 14 feet long and 20 feet wide. It didn't have wings of any kind and no weapons whatsoever. If he had anything else to say it would be fragile.

"That is the sidewinder Mark 1," bellowed a female voice. Soran turned to see that it was the ginger lady from last night walking towards him. "Top speed of 220 microseconds, 8 out of 10 on the manoeuvrability scale, and an unladen jump range of 7.56 light years. Cheap but inexpensive, originally design as a light support ship and it lacked jump capability. Now with modern compact drives it's a useful all-rounder that's been around for a 100 years. Some navies still use 'em as fighters patrol craft."

Soran didn't get most of it, but the way she just explained made him takeback what he just said about it being fragile.

"And she's yours," she finished with a broad smile.

Soran returned it with a smile of his but dropped it when he realised what she just said. Another blink from him and the woman laughed it off.

"I swear that's never going to get old." She gestured him to follow and started running him down with obvious things. The body she represents is the Pilots Federation, a secretive group who take in some of the best flyers in the galaxy. She goes on to explain that not everyone is as good and nobody has an idea how they recruit. Next she explains about the ship; apparently every new commander – the standard title for every pilot in the PF – is given a Sidewinder for free. Soran wondered if it was because it was cheap but remembered that she mentioned that it was inexpensive. He brought the question up anyway and answer sounded modest.

"You'd be surprised how many aces go back to the sidewinder; some even use it for their entire career."

After all the other obvious things were explained, she began showing him how the ship works. Aside from the cockpit; Soran was not much of an engineer and realised how important it is for a pilot to know how his or her ship works. Thrusters, Frame Shift Drive, life support systems and the rather small cargo hold were common knowledge but they were smaller things he wasn't aware of like utility mounts, cargo scoop and internal compartments that were used to house certain modules that in her own words 'save your life'. After an hour of the learning curb, a question suddenly popped into his head.

"Why are you telling me all this?" his expression in confusion. "Don't get me wrong; learning all this is great but what do you get out of it? I'm not naïve enough to say that you don't have benefit to this."

At first, the female pilot narrowed her eyes as if insulted but then soften up her features almost apologetically. Or pity?

"Let's be real boyo; you aren't exactly in a position to make good profit. Living in a station is mighty expensive especially since you're working double shifts. It ain't good for your health and eventually you died either from exhaustion or lack of sleep. If you were flyboy like I am; you could make big money by accepting what jobs you want regardless of who your employers are."

"Why would I want to be a career pilot? I'm aiming to be doctor." He said confidently.

"How are you going to do with no money in your pocket?" she countered.

He opened his mouth to say something but close it and sighed. "I'll find a way."

"Ever heard of the saying 'never look a gift horse in the mouth'?"

"No. what does that mean?"

"It means you shouldn't decline a gift or opportunity when it is given to you."

Soran was hard pressed to say no but like the lady said; he wasn't in any position good profit but she was offering him one.

"But you never answered my question."

The pilot was silent for a moment. What she spoke next surprised him even further.

"I was like you once; young couple with an unplanned baby suddenly deciding to runaway to start a new life together. It's not easy, you of all people know that and when I couldn't work anymore my boyfriend was left to do it all. After a while he got frustrated and we argued a lot until he got the opportunity to pick up and leave. I was own for the longest time; avoiding the police and scavenging what I could find until my water broke. Some people found me and brought me the hospital. I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl and I cried. Not because she was most beautiful thing I've ever seen, but because sadly I knew I wouldn't be able to keep her. The police came by to arrest me and send my baby off to the orphanage. I couldn't let that happen so I fought with all I had until I passed out. When I came to, I found myself in a ship and an elderly man rocking my baby to sleep in a makeshift cradle. Right then I knew; the Universe had smiled at me. he showed me how to fly and eventually I got inducted into the Pilots Federation. I got my own ship, my little girl has a home and education and now I have husband who takes care of her while the breadwinner goes out to pay the bill. Before the old man died I asked him why he helped me. He told me that sometimes you got to be the moon that shines for them in the dark so that they can be the sun in the light for others. Now I'm doing the same for you."

"So let me get this straight; you and your then wife ran away when you were teenagers and by some miracle a pilot gave you a ship?"

When Soran nodded Michael pinched the bridge of his nose trying to make sense of it all.

"Forgive me if I don't believe your story because it sounds Ludacris."

Soran nodded in agreement. "My wife thought the same thing back then. But I took it anyways and we never looked back since."

"Is that how you became a spy then?"

The pilot looked sheepish. "Not really. But I can definitely say that if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be where I was now in life or here in a room with an Interrogator."

A hard look was sent his and he realised he had offended him. "You are an Interrogator right?"

"If I were an Interrogator; we wouldn't be having this conversation and you'd be on a table with your limbs stretched and you screaming for mercy."

"Well thank goodness you're not then," the pilot beamed.

Michael was getting frustrated. This boy clearly isn't intimidated by him or the fact that he's being questioned as a spy. Almost confident that he'll be released from here. He was going to be more aggressive from here on out. He was jog out his thoughts when the pilot spoke.

"I never found out."

"Find out about what?" His curiosity peaking.

"About the lady pilot; what happened to her or where she is now."

"That's right. And you never mentioned a name."

"That's because she never told me. It might be the one thing that I regret; Not knowing the name of Aysun."

"Aysun?"

"It's Turkish for "Beautiful as the moon."

"I thought you were of Indian descent?"

"Partly; I'm mostly of Pakistani descent with some Turkish heritage on one side of the family. So technically I'm Arabic but I like to think I'm European."

Interesting Michael thought. For someone who was born outside of Sol – the system which humans originally came from – he had some knowledge on some of its cultural heritage.

"So what happened next?" he continued the interrogation or rather conversation.

"Well we decided to wait until the baby was born to move out of the station so I started doing some trading to earn some income. Even did a few escort duties for a freighter a couple times. Didn't see much action then because we were in a relatively safe system. It stayed liked that for a few weeks until Aiman was born."

Soran was looking over the little organic thing in his arms. He was as white as his mother with little brown golden eyes looking at him. His son, Aiman Joseph Hala, was a beautiful sight. he couldn't help but smile every time he looked at him. It was hard to describe the emotions he was feeling that moment. A hand touched his shoulder and he turned to see his girlfriend, Sarah Cho.

He remembered the first time he saw her. A dazzling brown hair girl walking down the corridor. A smile that was so radiant that boys drooled over. You had to be extremely lucky to score a date. Soran on the other approached her in a more analytic matter. She can be quite competitive so he took advantage of it by challenging her to a series of games and if he won; she would go on a date with him. He challenged her every month but he lost all of them until he got lucky in December in a game of Space fighter. Despite an awkward first date he made a good impression because she said yes the moment he asked her to be his girlfriend.

Here she was now, slightly plump after giving birth but he still found her beautiful. He smiled and transferred the baby from his arms to hers, wrapping an arm around her after doing so. They both stared in silence at the spacecraft that would take them on a whole new journey together.

"I hope you have a plan Soran." Sarah said breaking the silence.

"I do,"

"A plan that doesn't go along the line of "we'll figure it out along the way""

"Yes Sarah, nothing along that line. I found a planet that might be good for us. I can continue to study medicine while you work at home."

She let out a soft laugh and kissed him on the cheek. "You work while I relax at home; a great plan indeed."

"You think we'll be alright?" she asked.

For a moment, Soran said nothing until he shrugged.

"We'll figure it out; we have to. Otherwise we'll be stuck with no food, no home and no future." He looked down at his first born son. "You and this baby are my future and I'll do anything to keep you two safe and sound. We'll make it. You'll see."

He cast a reassuring smile at his lover and she returned it back. As soon as the ship was ready, they both squeezed in the rather small cockpit. Soran had refitted a second pilot seat behind the first with the baby essentials on the side. Anything else pf value to them was put in the cargo hold. He made sure Sarah had her crash webbings on – holding on to Aiman in the process – before putting his on and did a pre-flight checklist like he was taught. When nothing was amiss, he started the ignition and with a jolt the engines hummed to life. After another pre-flight checklist he signalled the foreman on duty that he was ready for launch. He double checked everything from his crash webbings to the modules more out of anxiety than anything else. As soon as the platform began to moved, Sarah started a singing a tune. Soran wasn't sure if it was out of nervousness or to calm down the baby but it was definitely calming down his anxiety.

" _Turn your magic on to me she'd say. Everything you want's a dream away. We are legends every day; it's what she told me."_

The platform rose until it came out on the bay where he saw the familiar routine of ships leaving to and fro and skiff conducting maintenance on the landing pads. A few seconds pass and the Station Control informed him that he was safe to depart followed by the magnetic safety clamp disengaging with a large clank. He slowly raised the throttle to elevate the ship to 30 metres, aligning with the airlock. He was thankful that his ship was conveniently parked on the vertical lane of the bay otherwise he would have to adjust his rotation. But then again his ship was small enough to exit and enter comfortably regardless of where he parked. Increasing the throttle to half, the ship lurched forward, passing through the air lock's shield barriers. Despite the large hums from the engine, Soran could still hear Sarah singing the tune.

" _Turn your magic on to me she'd say. Everything you want's a dream away. Under this pressure, under this weight, we are diamonds."_

Space filled up his view and pushing full throttle, increasing the distance from the station. In the lull, he pulled up the astronomical map and locked on to his destination, correcting his flight path in the process. Turning port at 180 degrees, they could see the Coriolis Station and the planet it orbited. As the Frame Shift Drive started charging, he felt a squeeze on his left arm and he reflexively looked over his shoulder to see Sarah, sharing the same smile as they both silently acknowledge it; they would probably never come back here again for whatever reason but they would remember it as the place that launched them to new places. The FSD began its countdown and they took deep breaths as they plunge into hyperspace.

Sans was beginning to take more interest in this pilot. His story sounded so much like a fairy tale but he explained it in a non-specific yet detailed way that it was boring to hear. Soran took a sip from his coffee that Sans had ordered earlier on more out of need than consideration. He had noticed that he looked somewhat exhausted after a few minutes and he berated himself for not noticing sooner. He needed his brain to be fully awake in order to get accurate facts.

"This planet that you wanted to get to; where was it?" he asked, returning to the conversation.

There was no immediate answer. Soran leaned back in his chair, face narrowed in thought.

"Honestly, I don't remember. I've never really thought about it till now. We stayed mostly on space stations and we rarely stayed on planets. We never really talked about it over the years. Not since we left the Capitol." Michael nearly choked on his coffee when he heard that.

"That wasn't mention in my file I see." Soran said with bemusement.

"It mentions that you worked for the Empire for 2 years but it never mentions that you stayed at the heart of the Empire. It also states of the multiple conflicts you participated against us; which is a lot!" The agent's reaction to the new found fact was so kind of funny he that he almost laughed.

"I forgot to mention that I've also done jobs for the late Emperor; even met him a few times."

"YOU WH-" Sans stopped mid-sentence when he realised how loud he was getting and he was standing up too; despite how insane his story sounded, Michael actually started believing in it.

He sat back down and schooled his features once more but his tone was still the same.

"You met the late Emperor Hengist Duval?" his asked, his voice lowered.

"I did. He was nice for a man of royalty but he was bit shallow; probably because he was dying."

The pilot suddenly cast an apologetic smile. "We're getting a little side tracked aren't we?"

"uh, yes; it appears so." Before he could ask the next question a wall monitor beeped.

"Sir, a delivery for you."

"good, send it in." the agent stood up from his seat and approached to door where another man handed him a large delivery box.

As soon as the door closed, the box was already on the table and Sans slides the lid open to reveal a variety of food and drinks wrapped and ready to serve.

"Good timing but my story with the Empire is going to juggle your stomach."


End file.
